Yellow
by handschuhmaus
Summary: The next drabble. Lucius is tipsy, and musing on cowardice and what it means to be a Malfoy. Sort of set in my general fanon universe. Note that this fic contains a bit of Muggle-bashing.


_Disclaimer: None of the Malfoys are mine at all, whatsoever…well, okay, actually, Pelargonia is my creation, but considering that no one ever suspected, much less even conceived of the idea of Lucius springing fully formed from the brow of Abraxus, she's really just a development on a nameless canonical character. And she isn't mentioned by name in this story, anyway._

Yellow is the color often used to denote cowardice.

This, I think, might be why it is apparently an appropriate color for me.

"A yellow-bellied coward"

Does it matter that I have impeccable dress sense?

Perfect blond locks that are the envy of many females?

A talent for diplomacy?

No?

Yes, I suppose I am vain. A bit.

Oh, alright. Quite a lot vain.

But, after all, I am a Malfoy.

And that means something.

It _means_ knowing exactly how to behave in all situations.

It _means_ avoiding fraternization with Mudbloods as if they were plague ridden rats.

And, oh, yes, it also means never pairing orange-red hair with chartreuse and crimson.

Or attempting to give your toys to house elves—Draco!

In any case, the wizarding community at large has decided I am a coward.

This, I suppose, is because I informed the committee, under oath, that I had been under the Imperius.

I pleaded not guilty of various crimes associated with the Dark Lord.

I did so to avoid Azkaban, not because I was ashamed.

What was there to be ashamed of?

Killing Muggles?

The filthy little things are like rabbits; you turn your back on them

(or even if you don't. Even if you watch them)

They breed and make more.

Every time you turn around, there's more Muggles in the world.

And what's wrong with that?

Simple: they don't like magic,

They don't know a thing about it,

They can't do anything with or against or in promotion of it.

They are an inferior race to those who can manipulate magic.

…

Yellow is also a sickly color.

Father always used to ask mother if she wouldn't stop drinking the gin.

He said it looked like she had jaundice.

…

It seems to me, however, that some purebloods did not fulfill their duties.

They mix with the inferior race.

Or they simply fail in their tracks.

That's what happened to mother.

She drank glass after glass of that infernal gin.

…

I didn't know it was going to be so bright out today.

I don't often go out of doors.

Severus?

Oh, I haven't the faintest clue about that little half-blood.

It would seem to me he's Dumbledore's pet.

But Draco reports no, and most seem to believe he's still loyal.

…

Mother never cared.

And he, well, I think at best he was some sort of Muggle lover.

Said he would have rather married some girl that ended up wed to a Mudblood.

Even though he was a pureblood.

Heir to the Malfoy legacy

And obsessed with a damn Mudblood!

…

Obsessed?

Perhaps not.

Am I truly a coward?

Perhaps not.

But only perhaps.

Maybe I should have learned something from Father.

Even if he was such a shame to the pureblooded race.

…

At least he knew what he wanted, Father did.

Do I know what I want?

No. I thought I knew why I wanted to do what I did.

But I don't.

I only know what I've been told to want.

I really am too sentimental when I'm drunk.

Drunk?

Probably tipsy is a better word. I'm still perfectly coherent.

Although that's practically bred into us Malfoys.

…

I really am something of a coward.

Else why did I never admit that I wanted Father to approve?

And he never did.

Never will

Dead, pushing up the daffodils, deceased

Terrible case of dragon pox

Never was ever close to me.

Sometimes I really do think love takes more courage than hate.

So why don't I want to be a coward?

Courage is a Gryffindor virtue, and scarcely a Slytherin vice.

Do any of us want to be cowards when it is all said and done?

…

Yes, I really think that to love is a far more courageous act than to hate.

But, I, Lucius Malfoy, am a coward, and I do not love.

_A/N: Don't be surprised if you see the bit about Gryffindor virtue and Slytherin vice again, if I should ever get to publishing the fics I've previously written. Someone else has said it before. I think it was either Mortola Gaunt or Voldemort; might have been Severus. I wasn't really sure where I was going with this one… Poor Lucius. _


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